Comfort
by agent m1
Summary: *jack/spot slash* Feelings that develop under the guise of comfort turn out to be the most sincere feeling of them all…


Title: Comfort   
Author: Agent M   
Rating: PG-13 to R-ish (MA 15)  
Pairings: Jack/Spot  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that isn't mine.   
Archive: Tainted Wings (www.colourovers.net) anyone else, just ask.   
Notes: My first Newsies fic so I'm a bit nervous.   
Warnings: implied sex, POV

  
**This was written for VinylNoMiko's Jack/Spot fanfic contest. for more info go to Tainted Wings.**

* * *

The first time it happened I didn't think much about it. I don't think he did either. I know you've seen the place and you know what it's like for our kind. It wasn't something we planned to happen or even thought about beforehand. It was a spur of the moment type thing. You know how that happens. Two people looking for comfort and not caring who it was with.

He was sitting there, motionless, staring over the water, lost in thought. I walked over and sat next to him and at first I don't think he even noticed I was there. Then he spoke.

"Do ya eva wonda why we do this?" 

I didn't answer him. I figured he wasn't looking for one. He was still staring out over the water.

"There hasta be more to life than this, ya know?" 

He seemed to have to pull his eyes away from the water to look over at me. His vibrant eyes were filled with a deep sadness that I didn't understand. 

"I'm just tired of feelin' like I ain't worth shit," he said softly.

I nodded, not knowing what else to do and then slowly put my arm around his shoulder in a friendly manner. He seemed to stiffen for a moment obviously unused to the contact, then relax into my arm. 

Neither of us said anything for a while. We just sat there staring at the water that was growing darker with the setting sun and enjoying each other's company. Soon, though, he started shaking a bit like he was fighting against himself. I held him tighter for a moment before I felt the first tear hit my arm. 

I didn't know what to do. Our kind never cries. But I couldn't let him suffer the way he was. I rested my forehead against his and rubbed his back. He looked up at me with confusion in his eyes and before either of us knew what was happening, I was kissing him lightly on his chapped lips. He let out a shuttering breath and kissed me back. 

That's all it was. Little kisses one night when he needed comforting. When the sun completely set and night had settled in and he was okay again, we parted ways. It wasn't a big emotional development or a romantic interlude. It was just me comforting him and him being comforted by me. 

--- 

The second time it happened it went farther than before. We both seemed to know it was coming and just went with it. But there was still no connection between us. It was just a case of being at the same place at the same time, both looking for something that the rest of the world wasn't offering. 

He walked up behind me, reached around me and took the cigarette out of my hand. I turned around to find him taking a slow drag off it and smirking. 

"Can't steal your own anymore?" I asked.

"Naw, yours are always betta," he shrugged and handed the cig back to me.

"So what brings ya ova here?"

"Just wanderin'" 

We were both standing too close to each other and we both knew it. Neither of us moved. I raised the cigarette to my lips and took a drag, keeping my eyes locked with his. He moved my hand away and fixed his lips onto mine; breathing in the smoke, I exhaled. It wasn't a kiss but the next one was and the cigarette fell to the ground, forgotten. 

We kissed like it was the most natural thing in the world, his tongue running against my tongue, breathing through each other's mouths. It wasn't quite like the last time. There was no real reason for us to be kissing, he didn't need the comfort that I offered him last time, but neither of us stopped to think about that. 

Soon hands began to roam and his hands came up under my shirt as I raked my nails over his back. And he was leading me towards crates where he pulled me into his lap when we reached them. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware of what I was doing, but the rest of me didn't care. Roaming led to touching, and touching to petting and soon we were both spent and panting. 

He looked at me oddly before zipping his fly back up and for a moment, I wondered what he was going to do. But he just kissed my cheek and left me there to watch him walk away as I zipped up my own pants. 

--- 

The next time I saw him he wasn't alone. He had brought two others with him: one I knew, and one I didn't.

"Well if it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick," I said 

"I see you moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view and everything," He replied and we spit-shook but suddenly felt wrong to me. Like everyone was watching us kiss. 

I tried to avert attention away from the shake, "Heya, Boots. How's it rollin'?"

"I got a couple of real good shooters," he answered showing me a few marbles.

"So, Jacky-boy," I said turning my attention back to him. "I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike."

"Yeah, well we are," he answered and I thought back to him telling me that he was tired of feeling like he was less than shit.

"We're not playing. We are going on strike," the kid interrupted my thoughts and I looked up at him with venom in my eyes. 

"Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?" I asked more than a little annoyed.

"Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say."

I swear sometimes I could punch him in the mouth. But I kept my cool and leaned back to listen to this kid talk.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city," the kid started.

"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?"

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they'll join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean…well, you gotta!"

God that kid was annoying. But I've got to hand it to him, he knew how to kiss ass.

"You're right Jacky-boy, brains," I said referring to the expert ass kissing he just delivered. "But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

"Because I'm telling you, Spot," Jack answered.

I looked him up and down then locked our eyes. "That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me." 

I watched him leave and wondered what the hell was going to happen between us. 

---

The few times I saw him throughout the strike things were the way they hand been before but then again, I guess nothing ever really changed between us. I still found the spit shakes a bit awkward, and at one point during the rally I swore he was about to kiss me in front of everyone. But maybe I was thinking too much into it than I should have been. It was obviously nothing more than hormones and a source of physical release, someone to turn to for comfort, only when needed. And I couldn't figure out why my thoughts were dwelling on those two encounters we had. They meant nothing.

If that was true, then why did I fall apart inside when I watched him kiss Sarah after he won the strike? Why did he come back anyway? To see her, to walk off with her and that annoying kid? To pretend like there was nothing at all between us? 

I know I had no right to be mad. There was no 'us' to speak of. The two times we were together were not about emotion or about love. It was selfish and needy and by chance. I suppose that I could have been any guy that night and it wouldn't have mattered to him. But for some reason I couldn't get over it and I feared that I had developed feelings for one of my best friends.

--- 

The last time it happened I was sitting motionless, staring over the water, lost in thought. He walked over and sat next to me and at first I didn't noticed he was even there. Then I spoke.

"Do ya eva wonda why we do this?"

He didn't answer me and I knew that he knew it was the same thing he said to me. Neither of us looked at each other but continued looking over the water.

"Why'd ya do it?" I asked finally, looking at him. 

"Do what?"

"Everything."

He pulled his eyes away from the water and looked down at his hands in his lap, then back up at me.

"I dunno. It just felt right, ya know."

I nodded and we lapsed into silence. 

"She ain't you, ya know," he said after a while.

"Who ain't?"

"Sarah. She ain't you. I thought that she was what I wanted this whole time, but I was wrong. She ain't what I wanted. It's you." 

He rested his forehead against mine and I looked up at him with confused eyes. And when he kissed me, it wasn't like before. There was emotion and even love in the kiss. I kissed him back and knew that this is what I wanted all along, too. And when he made love to me that night, it was like coming home. 

After that our time together could not be thought about in terms of first, second, third, etc., but as one continuous moment that keeps on going. 

-end-

This is Agent M signing off.


End file.
